


Queen's Gambit

by soixantecroissants



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Year (Once Upon a Time), with all the chess puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:32:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soixantecroissants/pseuds/soixantecroissants
Summary: In which an unexpected pastime becomes more than just a game to a knight and his queen. For OQ Prompt Party.





	1. Chapter 1

Life in the castle was an interesting one, never a dull moment to be found when there were always new wings to explore – not to mention new ways of testing the Queen's temper each time Robin ventured just a bit too far.

She mostly kept to herself, when she wasn't conferring with the Charmings or exchanging soft smiles with a certain four-year-old boy. But whenever Robin returned from his wanderings, he would feel her gaze land sharply on him, and only a well-timed greeting from Snow would save him the trouble of explaining himself in front of everyone.

"Oh, Regina, let's have a walk in your gardens before the sun sets, won't that be nice?" The Princess would always say something to this effect, on this particular occasion steering her firmly away from the banquet hall before Regina could manage more than a helpless glare in his direction.

"The roses were particularly lovely this afternoon," Robin offered, and even Tuck looked at him in slight alarm, as though he harbored some secret death wish.

"What in the gods' name were you doing in Her Majesty's private garden?" John whispered, aghast, like it was about the most scandalous thing he'd ever heard.

"It was a nice day for a stroll," said Robin with a shrug, "now, if you'll excuse me—" and he ambled off, whistling to himself as he thought about how the sun would indeed be going down soon, and that one of those upper floor terraces might be a nice place to take in the view.

He detoured past the kitchens as he went, nicking a carafe of coffee and then, as a last-minute concession, a small pitcher of cream to go with it, though he personally could not understand the need to take one's coffee any other way but black.

She was already waiting for him on one of the benches when he pushed through the vigilant curtain of vine guarding the entrance to her balcony.

Robin smiled, sweeping his body into a bow. "Your Majesty. We have to stop meeting like this."

Regina rolled her eyes at him, fingernails tapping an impatient rhythm into the circular stone table in front of her. "You're late."

He shrugged as he approached her, seating himself on the bench across from hers. "I thought you may have a while yet to shake the Princess off your trail."

"I told her all her constant smiling was starting to give me a headache. It wasn't exactly a lie." Regina gave him a repressive smile of her own while he procured two cups from the inner pockets of his cloak, but there was a distinct softening to it when he set down her little pitcher of cream.

She was doing her best not to look up from her cup as he poured out their coffee, like hiding her smile might somehow mean it had nothing at all to do with him. He humored her anyway, pretending not to notice the way she suddenly sat a bit straighter and primly added the most measured splashing of cream to her coffee.

"Now. Where were we?" Robin cleared his throat, leaning back to regard her with a faintly smug expression. "Ah, yes, I believe I nearly had you in checkmate, before Mrs. Lucas rang the dinner bell."

Regina paused mid-sip, brows knitting into a glare above the rim of her cup at him. "You're delusional."

Robin's grin went decidedly crooked. "And you, milady, are stalling."

Looking vaguely murderous, she raised her free hand, and with a delicate turn of her wrist, a flourishing twist of her fingers, a black-and-white checkered board began to paint its way across the stone slab between them. A scattering of black pawns carved themselves out of thin air, a lone bishop and queen, the black king ensconced in one corner behind his two rooks.

"No cheating," Robin reminded her teasingly, and Regina scowled in exasperation at him.

"Where would be the fun in beating you that way?"

He chuckled, watching as his side of the board began to fill with what remained of his own white marble army. "Well if memory serves correctly, my knight was…" and he nudged it one square over, placing both her king and her queen directly in its path. "…there. Check, by the way."

To her credit, Regina only glowered a little before waving her hand, and the black king did a trudging sidestep away from Robin's knight, removing itself from harm's way.

The knight creaked its armored head back at Robin, awaiting further instructions.

"You know what to do," Robin told him, with a wink in Regina's direction.

The white knight promptly cantered his horse over to Regina's now-vulnerable queen, dismounting with a gallant bow and bending over her hand with a kiss.

The queen looked appalled, or about as appalled as a marble figurine could manage, and walked very stiffly off of the board, refusing to look back at him while Regina's bishop ran him through with the long end of a staff. But as Robin's wounded knight limped over to where she was standing, leaning into his horse for support, she gave a flustered wave of her arms and rushed over to be by his side.

Regina hardly blinked an eye in their direction, busily commanding her army and cutting their losses as they marched strategically forward. Robin's had been whittled rather woefully down to a rook and a handful of pawns, but one of them slipped doggedly past Regina's defenses, reaching the end of the board where it could transform into any other piece of his choosing.

"I assume you'll be wanting your queen back?" Regina asked him dourly, already reaching to replace his pawn.

"Oh, I think I've found the one I want," said Robin, with a knowing smile. In his periphery, the white knight – all patched up now, from the looks of it – was helping the black queen onto his steed before mounting up behind her, cupping a hand around her ear and whispering something while she played with her hair.

Robin was endeavoring not to smirk too hard at them when he caught the look on Regina's face.

"We have to be quick," she told him in a brusque tone. "Before Snow tries to come cure my headache with something ridiculous like—"

"More smiling?" Robin suggested, feeling pleased when her frown lost a bit of its severity with him. "And might I add how charming it is, that you think I haven't already defeated you?" He gestured toward his waiting pawn. "I'm going to need my knight back, thank you."

Regina stared at him, looking positively affronted. " _Excuse_  me?"

"Come along, then," said Robin, and both his knight and her queen appeared crestfallen, the queen slipping back out of the saddle and watching them return to the board with a pretty but forlorn expression.

"Right there, that's a good lad," Robin encouraged the knight, who was reluctantly greeting the pawn while stealing a glance back at his queen.

Regina was glowering when Robin looked up again.

"Check," he said, grinning over a sip of his coffee at her, wondering which of the two might taste more deliciously dark at the moment. "And mate."

The knight seemed to perk back into shape at that, puffing out his armored chest and purposefully unsheathing his sword. The king was cowering on his square, arms held entreatingly over his head as the knight made his deadly approach.

He paused for a hesitant moment, turning to look at his queen one last time. She was eyeing him in anticipation, her slim marble body poised as though eager for him to fell the black king. She gave a coy tilt of her chin, hands clasped in front of her, waiting.

He swung, and the king's crown landed with a stony clatter, slowly rolling to a stop halfway across the board. The rest of Robin's pawns cheered, throwing their helmets about as some of them took up the game of kicking the crown back and forth between one another. Meanwhile, the queen had sidled up to her knight, kissing his cheek and all but preening when he turned to take her hand again.

"Two out of three," sniffed Regina, pursing her lips and refusing to look Robin quite in the eye.

He smiled. "It's a date, Your Majesty."


	2. Chapter 2

Arranging a time for the rematch the Queen had fairly insisted upon turned out to be more of a challenge than Robin had anticipated. It wasn't for lack of trying, of course; in small ways of her own, Regina let him know that she was not-so-patiently waiting to prove how very much a fluke that first game had been.

And far be it for Robin to deny her the chance, as much as he enjoyed all the touchier-than-usual looks that she gave him, and the occasional raven she sent proposing specific places they could meet. (That part took a bit of explaining, when Roland began to notice all the back-and-forth of the birds and wanted to know what Papa and "His Majesty" were secretly talking about all the time.)

The trouble was that they could never seem to find a moment alone together.

It had been an unspoken thing, from the start of all this whatever-it-was, that it was meant to remain between the two of them. Sitting with her in those dusky-cool evenings, away from the rest the castle with a chessboard to glare at and a coffee in hand, Robin thought she'd never looked so alive. And perhaps it was selfish of him, wanting her like this all to himself; but when Regina would squinch her eyebrows together, or bite her lip a certain way while considering some move he'd just made, he couldn't convince himself that this was wrong of him.

He dared to wonder, sometimes, if she might even feel the same way.

But apart from those first few jaunts on her terrace, before this had become perhaps more than just a game to them, they rarely – if ever – caught each other alone. Every time he made to approach her, Snow White would suddenly walk through the door, or pop around some corner with an accuracy that quite frankly alarmed him. His Merry Men were no less helpful, constantly milling about, and if any soul other than Roland were present then Regina would not bother acknowledging him at all.

Her wicked witch of a sister was even making things difficult for them, with hardly a moment to rest from one of her hijinks to the next, and when they weren't busy putting out all her fires (sometimes quite literally), the Charmings were calling endless meetings on the matter, until Robin would've been rather ecstatic never to hear the name "Zelena" again.

It was during one such session that an opportunity finally presented itself. The conversation was turning and turning in even more circles than usual, and Regina had spent the last ten minutes sitting in such an extraordinary silence that at last Prince Charming addressed her with a cautious, "Regina, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm so glad you asked," she said immediately. "Can someone please turn the temperature down in this room? It's absurdly warm in here."

"Sure thing, sister," said Leroy with an undignified snort, "Let me just remove a log or two from the fireplace, that's how thermostats work here, right?"

"Feels fine to me," Snow frowned, tilting her chin in a concerned fashion as Regina fluttered a delicate hand in front of her face. "You do look a little flushed, though."

"I  _have_  been feeling like I'm coming down with something," said Regina in a gravely acknowledging tone, and it was at this point that Robin could no longer look up from the table, for fear that someone might catch him smiling.

"Maybe you should go lie down for a while," suggested Snow, her forehead creased.

"Yes, I think I will," Regina announced, and she rose dramatically onto her feet. "I'm sure one of you can brief me later on all of the nothing that remains to be discussed here?"

"Good riddance," grumbled the dwarf as she swept past them, her body betraying nothing of the fact that he'd said it well within earshot of her, but Robin felt the smile he'd been savoring promptly wiped from his face.

"Perhaps it is our present company that leaves something to be desired," he said quietly, once the door had been firmly shut behind her – she wouldn't take kindly to the idea of him thinking he ought to defend her in some way.

Leroy had the decency to look at least slightly chastised, and Snow White was turning to gaze at him with something like gratification in her eyes, but Robin found it rather disheartening that this speaking up on Regina's behalf should be seen as some groundbreaking thing.

The heat in this room was suddenly every bit as oppressive as Regina had made it out to be, and Robin stood, nodding his apologies to the Prince and Princess. "If you'll excuse me as well, I have a son who's likely awake past his bedtime and giving his uncles a bit of a headache themselves."

Roland, of course, was up to no such thing, already fast asleep in their room when Robin peeked in to check – worn out, Little John explained, from a very rousing game of the boy's own creation, and he handed a checkered box back to Robin, the pieces still rattling around inside.

"I've never seen it where they move around on their own," said John. "Pretty neat trick, that."

"It belongs to the Queen," Robin told him, which was technically true. He left out the part where she wasn't aware that she'd loaned it to him.

"That sounds about right." John jerked his head back toward the drawing room, where the rest of their men were shuffling decks and clinking their pitchers together. "You in for a bit? Her Majesty even conjured up a billiards table!" He tempered his excitement for a moment when something occurred to him. "Hopefully those stay where they're supposed to, though."

"Wouldn't put it past her to throw in a curve ball or two," Robin chuckled, and he left John to mull over this, making his excuses again before sauntering off with a new spring in his step. With his men otherwise occupied for the evening, and the likelihood of being called to another council meeting reasonably low, he and Regina could finally have a few blissful hours to themselves.

He was at her door and ready to knock when the thought struck him that perhaps it was a bit presumptuous of him, showing up like this when it could very well be the opposite of what she'd wanted – that perhaps he'd read her wrong, and her performance downstairs had not been a veiled invitation at all.

At the least he supposed he could drop off the warm beverage he'd brought her, and it was a genuine desire to make sure she was doing all right that had him finally lifting his hand and rapping gently on her door.

A brief but permissive "Yes" was all the response he received, but it was enough to have him nudging his way into her bedchambers, chessboard tucked beneath one arm while he balanced a tray with the other.

"I was starting to think you'd forgotten how to knock." Her voice came to him from somewhere outside – he could sense the light breeze traveling with it, and a barely-there hint of perfume, mingled with the sharper floral scents of her vast terrace garden.

She was perched expectantly on a marble slab beneath the tulip magnolias as he made his way over to her. "I didn't want to bother you if you were actually feeling unwell," Robin explained, nodding his thanks when purple tendrils of smoke reached out of thin air to relieve him of his tray. "I brought tea, instead of our usual. I hope that's all right."

The smoky, finger-like projections were busily stirring in small cubes of sugar, and apart from an imperious whiff of the tea that he'd chosen, followed by a querying "Milk?" as a second teacup was being poured, she made no other comment while Robin tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

A small round table had materialized in front of them in the meantime, and he set down her chessboard before taking a seat across from Regina.

"That looks familiar," she remarked in an arch tone, and he didn't bother hiding his grin from her this time.

"I've been showing Roland how to play a little," he shrugged, and at the inquisitive raise of her brow, he went on, "He was curious about what sort of game we've been up to."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I've been teaching Her Majesty a thing or two about the fine art of admitting defeat on occasion." His smile slid sideways when she scowled in exasperation at him. "You know, just to keep her humble, and all that."

Regina was looking none too tolerant of his version of things, until he leaned back with a playfully resigned sort of sigh. "Not that he believed I could ever beat you, of course. I'm afraid my fatherly pride is on the line tonight, to earn back his faith in my abilities. Perhaps Your Majesty could find it in your heart to take pity on me for a change?"

"In your dreams," she said primly, flicking a finger toward the box in between them. The metal latch sprang loose, the board creaking open as all the pieces inside began to fight their way out.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," said Robin, helpfully swinging the top half of the board up further when one of the white knights tried to prop it open with his sword. He saluted to Robin before bending back down, emerging a half-second later with the black queen's hand held daintily in his as he escorted her over the edge of the board.

Regina did not seem to notice as she poured herself a second cup of tea, and Robin found he was glad for it, unsure how she might react to know that these strange little displays of affection had only appeared to grow stronger since the last game they'd played. He gave the two a warning look, pointedly gazing back in Regina's direction, and the black queen took the hint, promptly brushing the knight aside and striding off to join her king.

The knight looked at Robin with a betrayed expression, and he could only wince an apology before Regina was clearing her throat, her attention returned to magick the board upright with another wave of her hand. Once everything settled, the pieces marched onto their squares, facing off in a stony silence.

Robin retrieved a black and white pawn, shuffling them around behind his back before holding out fists for Regina to choose. She extended a palm, and his fingers opened to press the black pawn into her hand, his touch lingering perhaps unwisely before she withdrew with an unreadable look on her face.

"Your move," she said, and she took another sip of her tea.

They played quietly for a period – neither of them were terribly bold with their opening moves, both preferring defensive positions in order to draw the other out slowly – and during that time, Robin felt the world pause as though suspending them here in this moment.

Truthfully, he'd never been fond of this game; it generally brought back less-than-pleasant memories of a life he'd left long ago, of a father who disapproved, whose ambitions had never aligned with Robin's own. But here, now, with Regina across from him in the twinkling half-moon that made the garden around them glow, Robin could admit that this game had its merits.

He'd never seen her so calm and focused – with a carefree sort of edge to it, even – as when she was summoning her miniature army to defeat the white king. All the tension he watched her carry around during the day with her seemed to fade, or at least find a new purpose, such that he couldn't begrudge her the smaller victories – the smug way she bit the inside of her cheek, for example, or feigned excessive interest in her tea whenever he was stumped by a move she'd just made.

"Are you feeling better?" Robin asked her after a particularly intense exchange – his bishop for the last of her knights – and she almost smiled at him.

"I am now," she said, without a hint of mockery or any of her usual put-upon airs.

"Good." He held her gaze for a moment, until she blinked and looked away, touching a lock of hair by her ear.

"Tea's getting cold," she said briskly, moving her hand around the pot.

"I can go down to the kitchens and brew a fresh one – shouldn't take me long."

"No need." A pale blue flame had wrapped itself around the base of the pot, lifting it slightly into the air so as not to burn the tray underneath. It cast a warm light across Regina's features, playing with those cooler shades that the moon had laid over them, and the softness it brought out of her was rather a sight to behold.

Robin must have been gazing at her more openly than he'd realized, because she was suddenly going a bit rigid, staring back at him with a guarded look in her eye.

"What?" she demanded, lifting a hand to her hair again in a way that made him think she was not at all conscious of doing so, and the knowledge of it was entirely disarming to him.

"I was simply admiring the view," he told her, half-wishing he'd had the good sense not to be quite so honest with her when she blinked and broke contact, pulling away from him and fixating pointedly back on the board as though to remind him why they were here.

The next instant she was letting out a frustrated sigh, practically growling out, "Oh, not this again."

In their distraction, his knight and her queen had resumed their flirtation, her slender black arm lifting to give him a coy little wave over her shoulder while he squared his armor-clad chest in a clear attempt to convey how very mighty he was.

"This is plainly ridiculous," said Regina, gesturing angrily toward Robin's knight. "How do you expect me to take this game seriously when that – that buffoon with a sword is trying to seduce my most powerful piece on this board?"

"Well now wait a moment," Robin frowned. "Before we go throwing accusations around, need I remind you that this is in fact only a game? Why not let them have a bit of fun while we're at it? They clearly like one another."

"Speak for yourself," sniffed Regina, with a reproachful look at her queen when she seemed about ready to make bedroom eyes at Robin's knight again. She crossed her marble arms back over her chest, angling sulkily away from him while he seemed to visibly deflate on his square.

"Behave," Robin told him mildly.

The white queen had just advanced diagonally across the board to capture one of Regina's pawns, and as he plodded off to join those idling by the side of the table, she reached out a gloved hand to comfort the knight who was now a mere two squares away.

Regina and her queen swung their heads in comical unison to glare most indignantly at the scene unfolding before them. Robin's knight was not refusing the white queen's efforts to console him, which seemed to cause the black queen a great deal of distress, and she rounded on Regina like she was the one to blame for all this.

"Look," Robin thought to try reasoning with her again. "What difference does it make, whether they wink at each other or hold hands a few times? You're the one who enchanted the pieces to move, so if anything I'd say this was all your doing."

" _My_  doing?"

"That's what I said, yes." It had also been the absolute worst thing  _to_  say, Robin could concede to that now, as the blue flame she'd lit earlier gave a slight quiver and then doubled in size. The tea began to boil, sputtering out little droplets that landed painfully on Robin's arm when he tried to remove the lid.

He drew back with a grimace, and Regina blinked as though coming back to herself, snuffing out the flame in an instant and leaning forward with a badly concealed look of concern on her face.

She was reaching like she might want to take his hand, and even though the sting of the water had already faded, Robin thought it wouldn't hurt to let her. He was shifting forward himself to meet her halfway when—oh, but of course—

"Regina?" they heard from somewhere within her private chambers, and they froze, with Regina's fingertips just brushing the back of his hand as they both turned toward the sound of Snow's voice.

"I wanted to check in, see how you're feeling," called Snow. "I brought tea! I thought we could have some girls' time, just the two of us," and bless the woman's good intentions but certainly not her sense of timing, as Regina turned on Robin with a truly horrified expression.

"Are you there?" Snow's voice was closing in on them now. "Regina?"

There was movement near the corner of his eye, and Robin turned just in time to see their tray of tea tremble and blink out of existence with a decisive little  _pop!_  Curling ringlets of smoke were winding up Regina's arm, obscuring it from view, and Robin, without a clue as to what she was planning or where her instincts might whisk her off to, reached over and grasped her hand firmly in his.

Their eyes met.

He felt an odd tugging sensation at his middle, like something was pulling him inside out, and then his vision was bending in impossible ways, up and down losing all semblance of meaning as Robin forced his eyes closed for one endless second.

When he opened them again, the world had snapped itself back into place, except everything was suddenly  _more_ , loud and looming and—very cold, he noticed, shifting around with a groan and feeling the chilled surface of stone at his back as he blinked and blinked and saw Regina.

She was hovering over him, her face the only thing that seemed to make sense at the moment. Her mouth was moving soundlessly around words that couldn't quite penetrate the fog of his brain, but he thought he understood well enough as she motioned for him to sit upright, and it was after she nudged him back onto his feet that he realized she'd let him keep holding her hand.

Robin took a swaying step forward, glancing down as he did, and the black marble square at his feet stopped him in his tracks. Where on earth had Regina taken them?

A shadow rose up behind her, and before he could even be sure what he'd seen, he all but shoved Regina back, ignoring the noise of protest she made as he pushed himself solidly in front of her.

His gaze lifted up, and then up some more, toward the massive black turret two squares ahead of him. An armed figure sat perched at the top, with its helmeted head cocked to one side as it stared down at Robin.

"Right," he breathed. "That's…that'd be one of your rooks, then?"

Slowly, as though wading through water, he pivoted around to take in the dozen pieces or so that remained on the board. They were each now standing seven feet taller than they ought to have been, still as statues but for the blank marble faces suddenly turned to look at him. Beyond the white-and-black checkered board, which seemed to stretch on in either direction, her garden hedges loomed as high as a forest, their pale pink roses rivaling the size of the moon.

Regina was watching him very carefully when he faced her again, as though bracing herself for his reaction, and perhaps he ought to feel more stern with her but at the moment he could only find himself smiling.

"This was certainly unexpected."

She clasped her hands against her belly. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind."

"Mind that you shrunk me into some sort of bauble that could fit inside one of your pockets? No, not at all," Robin teased her, but she didn't have a chance to reply before the click of Snow's heels made an echoing boom off the paved stone terrace.

"Hold still!" hissed Regina, and a half-second later he heard the thudding clunk of metal, a suit of armor materializing out of thin air and then dropping heavily down to fit itself over his body. He blinked through the thin slits of his headgear as Regina appeared quite literally to turn into stone, her hair down to the folds of her skirts refusing to budge in the wind.

A giant Snow White had lumbered into view, Robin's line of sight landing somewhere near her elbow as she drifted closer and closer to the table. He hazarded a glance upward, trying not to cringe at the small creaking sound from his armor, and watched her make a leisurely turn around the terrace.

In fact, every movement she made from this new vantage point of his felt unbearably slow, perhaps exaggerated by her mountainous size, and he grew restless trapped in his armor, resenting the Princess just a little for making Regina feel the need to hide, even here, in a place that was meant to be private.

Snow White finally let out a sigh, hardly giving the chessboard more than a perfunctory look before turning away. Robin sagged his shoulders in relief, waiting for the last of her to trail back indoors, and then with some difficulty he removed his helmet, clumsily making his way over to Regina.

She came back alive as he approached her, and with a brisk wave of her hand his armor unfolded itself from his body, shrinking and shrinking until it could have fit on his thumb before disappearing in a miniature flash of light.

"Impressive," said Robin. "I can't believe that disguise actually worked. She didn't notice a thing out of place."

"You don't know her as well as I do," Regina replied, a bit cryptically. "She doesn't always see what's right in front of her."

"No, it would seem not." Sensing that she wasn't in the mood to say any more on the matter, Robin changed the subject, clearing his throat and sweeping his arm around the board. "Shall we? If you're still up for it."

Regina scowled suspiciously at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," he smiled, "I know how much you hate to lose," and she made a scoffing noise at him, bristling with a new kind of purpose.

"We'll see about that."

"I look forward to it." Robin watched her expectantly, finally nodding at her side of the board when she only glared unblinkingly at him. "It's your turn, by the way."

Even with him standing a head taller than her, and the chess pieces several more heads than that, Regina still somehow managed to look down her nose at them all, huffing and stalking away with a less-than-patient " _Obviously_ " as though he was the one who'd needed reminding.

Shaking his head with another smile, Robin strode over to his end of the board, about-facing just in time to see Regina's rook slide to his left and brandish his sword in warning at the white queen.

Robin thought for a moment that Regina had directed her rook to the wrong square – the guard at the top was not positioned to take out the white queen directly, but rather to defend the line of squares that ran between the queen and Robin's knight, preventing her from coming any closer to him.

It was difficult to keep a straight face, but Regina was looking so ferociously at the white queen that Robin couldn't bear the thought of ruining this moment by laughing.

Meanwhile, the black queen appeared very encouraged by this, and she was busily straightening her back and fluffing out her chainmail skirts when Regina rounded on her with an irate expression.

"Don't even start," she snapped, and the queen instantly dropped her posturing, looking sullenly off to one side again.

Regina was in rare form after that, grimly resolved to separate the two of them, and with an army towering behind her she was indeed a formidable sight. The board was heavily weighted in her favor as well; while they both had their queens and a smattering of pawns, Robin's knight was no even match against Regina's two remaining rooks.

By all counts, she could have finished him off rather quickly, and Robin did not take her for one to play around when she'd already decided she was going to win. But time and again when he left his side vulnerable, Regina seemed to get other ideas, chasing off the white queen even if she posed no immediate threat, or passively moving another pawn forward when cornering his knight would have been the smarter option.

At last, unable to resist it, Robin moved his knight in position to take Regina's queen, placing it directly in her rook's line of attack.

"Wait!" said Regina immediately, rushing forward to stand in front of her rook. She needn't have gone to the trouble; the rook, much to Robin's amusement, had not even bothered to turn around, gazing uninterestedly in the opposite direction when Regina swiveled around to fix him with a warning look.

"My queen is right there," Robin pointed out helpfully, "should you decide it a worthy trade, my knight for your rook."

With a start, Regina turned to his queen as though seeing her there for the first time. She was standing a few squares away from the knight, not close – Regina had certainly seen to that fact – but well within range to protect him, as Robin had known. A horrible realization seemed to dawn on Regina's features, that she'd revealed her weakness to him, and Robin suddenly found himself regretting that he'd thought to tease her this way.

"No, of course not," she said thinly, and jerked her head at the black queen, gesturing toward the knight.

Robin froze.

" _Now_ ," she hissed when the queen did not budge, and with a last glowering look to rival that of Regina's, she picked up her skirts and walked with dreadful finality over to the square in front of Robin's knight.

The knight's horse, which had been reared back on his hind legs for much of the game, instantly settled his front hooves onto the board, butting his muzzle against the queen's palm when she reached forward to stroke it. There was a grave sort of resignation to her movements, and the way she couldn't quite look her knight in the eye made Robin feel that he must look away, too.

"You're willing to sacrifice your own queen for this?"

"Sacrifice?" sniffed Regina. "Hardly. After she kills him, if your queen makes a move against mine, my rook will be there to return the favor. Either way,  _he'll_  be gone," and she sneered at Robin's knight, "so I do think I'll be getting the better end of the deal."

The black queen looked hopefully at Robin, as though silently pleading for him to move his knight away from her. But Regina was bluffing, he knew, she had to be, and he held her gaze in his, watching the way she stiffened ever so slightly when he moved a pawn at the other end of the board.

The black queen hung her head, and the horse bumped his nose playfully into the side of her face, looking confused when she didn't try to pet him again.

Regina stalked slowly up behind her. "Get rid of them both."

The black queen hesitated, a marble hand poised over the horse's chest where Robin guessed his heart would have been.

"Do it!"

But Regina's voice cracked, just a little, and this was absurd, it was only a game, but she looked so strangely helpless to him in that moment, like she was half-desperate for this to somehow end differently, and Robin could not stand by and allow her to regret it all later.

"Stop!"

He rushed forward to stand in front of his knight, and the black queen took a halting step away from him, looking uncertainly back at Regina.

Alarmed by his sudden appearance, the horse had reared back with a kick of those great marble hooves, and as the knight seized hold of the reins, Robin ducking to avoid getting trampled, Regina seemed to snap out of her trance.

"Robin, no!"

She ran to him and grabbed his hand, pulling with a strength that caught him off guard, stumbling him into her as a clattering of hooves came from behind them. The knight had regained control of his steed, the black queen stepping forward to soothe him as Robin turned to face Regina again.

"Are you all right?" he wanted to know, and she looked truly perplexed by the question.

"I'm—" she shook her head as though lost and trying to regather her bearings, her palms pressed up against his chest.

He became acutely aware of the fact that he must have shielded her in his arms when she threw herself in harm's way for him, though she didn't seem to mind it very much at the moment, letting him hold her while she gazed at her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said at last.

Robin shook his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

She glanced up at him, startled, looking ready to argue with him.

"I shouldn't have baited you like that earlier," he told her firmly. "It was wrong of me, I know that now. You took a noble risk, showing your fondness for them, and I used that against you." When she dropped her gaze, refusing to quite meet his eye again, he gently took her chin in hand, coaxing it back up. "Please, forgive me."

Regina swallowed before speaking. "I wish you hadn't…seen me. Like that." Her voice was low and strained, like it had just taken everything to admit this to him.

He gave her a crooked smile. "It doesn't change anything. You think I don't know who you are, Regina?"

"Do you, though?" she asked tonelessly, holding herself very rigidly in his arms. "I almost ruined their…" She trailed off, her fingers picking at one of the loose folds of his cloak in a semi-agitated manner, and he reached around to rest a calming hand over hers.

"You came to this sorry knight's rescue, did you not?"

"A knight! You certainly give yourself a lot of credit," she retorted, but without any heat, her mouth pressing together as though to contain a small smile from him.

Feeling emboldened, he raised her hand to his lips, just as his knight had once done to her queen before whisking her off of the board. "And you don't give yourself nearly enough."

Regina looked dubious, like he couldn't know what he was saying to her, but she didn't push him away, or scoff at him or summon her fire the way she might have normally – impulsively – done. "You're just being kind."

"There's no 'just being kind' about stating the truth, I can assure you." When she only shook her head at him again, clearly not ready to hear any more of it, he lightened his tone, telling her cheerfully, "It's all right. I can know it enough for the both of us, until you're willing to believe me."

She rolled her eyes, but he felt her relax into him just a little, and he understood the effort it took, not to hold herself back quite as severely as a lifetime of miserable circumstances must have demanded of her.

And to think he had two enamored chess pieces to thank, for this new window into Regina's well-armored heart.

They were similarly wrapped around one another now, Robin observed, the black queen holding hands with her knight as he bent down by her ear, his steed attempting to nudge them even closer together. It was the white queen's turn to pout at them all, arms crossed petulantly over her chest while the kings, useless as ever, hid in their respective corners and shrugged across the board at each other.

"I think we'll have to call this one a draw," Robin winked to Regina, wondering whether it was a trick of the moonlight when her eyes seemed to brighten before looking away.

"That sounds fine," she said.

He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, venturing, "Still the best two out of three?"

"If you like." She made it sound almost like a question.

"We can play with a non-magical board next time," Robin offered. "I can think of one particular boy who'd love to get his hands on this set again."

Regina's lips twitched at that, and she glanced behind him to watch the queen cozying up to her knight. Her voice went quiet, even a bit shy and uncertain as she asked him, "Do you think they'll still…be like that, with each other, even if we stop?"

Robin carefully laced their fingers together, drawing her gaze back up to his. "Without a doubt in my mind," he told her, and the smile she gave him was half-playful, half-cautiously wondering, and all the victory he could ever want.


End file.
